The illusion of everything being right
by the.opera.ghost.uk
Summary: Christmas at De Changny family Estate. Unnerving discussion between Philipe and his ghostly 'brother in law'.Erik/Raoul established relationship. Inspired by an item from 'Glimpses' by Lucifer Rosemaunt


Sitting in his leather winged back chair, bent over the oak desk in his study of the family country estate, Philipe, Compte De Changy smiled quietly to himself as he paused in his work. He lifted his head and listened to the fire crackling in the grate as he sat back and surveyed the warm book filled room, taking the glass of brandy he had poured himself earlier from the desk in his hand as he did so.

Christmas with his family, who'd have thought it? A sip of brandy and a shake of his head at the idea brought a smile to his face. He had deliberately left the door to the study open so as to hear the happy sounds resounding in the house. The laughter and footsteps of the younger children, the elder, Cecile vehemently telling her twin brother that that was 'most definitely not how to play that phrase' on his new violin as she repeated it on the piano emphasising the section she felt was wrong. Followed by Erik's deep throated chuckle – and a cough. Raoul and his lover had arrived a few days before Christmas to stay with the family and all of the children had been in various stages of getting over a very nasty cold at the time.

And Erik had caught it. But he was gracious and said he'd got it from Raoul before they had arrived at the house as he noticed that Cecile was most upset that maybe she had made her Uncle Erik sick. Raoul had just raised a quizzical eyebrow at his statement but with a pleading look from Erik to not hurt Cecile's feelings, he proceeded to confirm that that was indeed the case. Raoul then had to endure Cecile scalding him for daring to make her beloved Uncle Erik ill.

Her Uncle Erik.

Philipe still felt stunned that Erik's name was said with the word Uncle in front of it, and the same for Raoul. He had resigned himself to the fact that the name De Changy would die with Raoul and him. He told himself that he was far too busy being the Compte and looking after the family interests as well as seeing that society left Erik and Raoul alone that he just didn't have time for love. But as his younger brother had told him many, many times, love will find you when you least expect it.

And it had. Sophie. His beloved, charming, open minded, loving Sophie. She was much younger than him but her mature and level headed nature had helped him fall helplessly in love with her. She had accepted this rather unconventional family and was as protective of Erik and Raoul's relationship as Philipe was. She had presented the Compte with their twins Cecile and François a year after their marriage. The babies had totally captured the heart of the former phantom and wrapped it around their little fingers, especially Cecile. The twins were closely followed by Pierre, Ariel and Etienne. Philipe silently hoped the child Sophie carried at present was a girl – just so she would capture her Uncle Erik's heart like his adorable Cecile.

Raoul had always been a natural around Children – something to do with part of him still being a child himself Philipe thought. But Erik was an astonishment. Patience of a saint. He taught François the violin and Cecile the piano. And as they had arrived the other children learnt music as well from their Uncle Erik. Raoul would sit in the music room with his chin propped on one hand and silently smile to himself when these lessons took place as he couldn't believe Erik's demeanour. Unlike music lessons with Christine the children were never scolded for a mistake, just gently told they could probably play that particular part better and to please try again – he let them get away with murder! He also turned out to be such a captivating children's story teller. He wove exciting colourful painted tales of Persia, Russia, France and all points in between, as if he had been there. In fact Raoul had told Philipe that his favourite time of day in his brother's household was when the children went to bed and surrounded their Uncle Erik, snuggling in to him as he gathered them in his arms and told his tall tales. And as for Erik's face, well, children Philipe had discovered, really are so much more accepting. As a baby Cecile cried least when Erik removed his mask and showed her his true face. This would bring from her a beaming smile and when she did this something repaired part of Erik's soul.

Yes, life had turned out to be a revelation. Who'd have thought it was nearly 20 years since he discovered his brother had fallen in love with the Phantom. They had built a strong unconventional life together in the De Changy family town house on the edge of Paris. Philipe knew they had had their ups and downs but their love was still as fierce for each other now as all those years ago. And he had to admit, that if it was possible Erik had mellowed in that time with the help of his brother's love and he now bore respect for his 'brother in law'.

He was drawn from his thoughts by a cough and a gentle knock on the open study door. He looked up and smiled to see the former Opera Ghost standing there putting his handkerchief back in his pocket. 'Phillipe I need to talk to you, I have a request...' The Compte raised an eyebrow and waved him in. As he walked in Erik shut the door. The Phantom had a request of him? He was intrigued. He rose and poured Erik a brandy as the former Ghost took a seat on the opposite side of Philipe's desk.

Erik murmured his thanks as he accepted the drink. He glanced up at Philipe but could not hold his eyes and so cast them to the floor. The Compte returned to his seat. Something didn't feel quite right. Philipe took a swallow of his own brandy and watched Erik stare down into his as yet untouched glass. He decided he would wait for Erik to talk when he was ready but the silence was getting uncomfortable. Philipe took in a large breath, 'Well I must thank you again for François's new Violin, he loves it and I can already hear the improvement in his playing, despite what Cecile says, and the musical box you gave Cecile, she adores it especially as it plays one of your compositions, and the boys how they adore their automatons, I know it must have taken up a lot of your time to make them, I'm very grateful for the way you have treated my children and...'

'I'm leaving him Philipe'

The Compte momentarily stopped breathing, '...I'm sorry?' he whispered.

Erik's eyes stuttered to Philipe's face and back down to the untouched glass in his hand.

He swirled the brandy around several times and then downed it in one gulp.

'You heard' he replied staring Philipe dead in the eye.

The Compte stared back. He suddenly felt cold all over. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears. He felt sick to his stomach. He looked down at his hands and could feel the smoothness of his desk beneath his palms as he moved them over the surface, how could he feel such craftsmanship after a statement like that? Then his fingers started to feel numb as they slowly curled into fists and then unfurled. In the next second he found himself gripping the edge of the desk in rage.

Too think just minutes ago he was running thoughts through his head of how good an Uncle Erik was too his children, how much Raoul loved Erik and Erik loved Raoul and how much their love had endured. My god Raoul. This would kill him; the Ghost must have tired of his little brother. There must be someone else. The Phantom would break his brothers' heart. How selfish, self centred, cruel... This man would not stay a minute longer in his home, his children would give back their presents, he would no more be 'Uncle Erik'. He rose from his seat and walked round the desk with a thunderous look on his face, yes this; this... person was leaving his home right now.

He was drawn from his thoughts by Erik coughing, and coughing and coughing. It was then he noticed the scarlet stain on the handkerchief Erik was wiping his lips with. Eriks eyes flicked to Philipe's and his shoulders slumped, 'Ahhh...as you can see, it is not through choice that I'm leaving him'.

Philipe sat heavily on the edge of his desk, this time gripping it to save himself from the sensation of falling, 'my god Erik...I don't know what to say.' He felt shame heat his face for his previous thoughts – of course Erik would never stop loving his brother. 'But you just caught the children's cold last week, this can't be happening so quickly...'

'No', Erik replied, 'this has been going on a while and I've just been good at the illusion of everything being right.'

Philipe was back on his feet if albeit a little shakily, 'We'll contact the best doctors, I know of some very good men in Switzerland, we'll pack now and go,... the air is better there,... we'll go,... all of us...'

Erik slowly shook his head and gave him a sad smile, it was then Philipe noticed Erik's pallor. It was pale – back to under the Opera House pale and he was thinner, back to under the Opera House thinner, the immaculate clothes didn't fit as well on his frame, how had he missed that? This wasn't right, he had never seen Erik so vulnerable, he was the Phantom for god's sake, he had held the control of a whole Opera house in the palm of his hand. It couldn't be too late, this wasn't real, this... this had to be fixable.

'I have no idea when it will happen but I think it may be sooner rather than later' Erik stated quietly staring once again into the empty glass before looking up and daring Phillipe to show him pity with his eyes. 'I need to know you are ready to cope with Raoul's reaction,' he continued as he placed the glass on the desk unsteadily, ' I need to know you will stop the boy from doing anything stupid when...when I'm not here'.

'Stupid?' Phillipe replied mystified.

Erik glared at the Compte, 'If our positions were reversed' he growled, 'I could not live a single day without him. If he di...had to leave me, I could not live without him! Not. One. Single. Day.' Erik was on his feet in front of Philipe's face, a flash of his former persona evident.

'Do you understand?'

The colour drained from the Compte's face as realisation dawned and he nodded.

'I need to know you are strong enough and prepared enough for when I have to leave him.'

'I will be Erik, I promise.'

Erik turned his back on Philipe and gripped the back of his chair hard with one hand. Phillipe watched Eriks head raise to the ceiling, composing himself before half turning over his shoulder. 'I need to know he will continue to live his life, remind him constantly that that was what I wished.'

'I promise.'

Erik fully turned his head and looked at Philipe, 'Thank you.'

'Erik', the Compte reached for his arm and touched it stopping him from leaving 'whether you choose to believe me or not, I will miss you, Sophie will miss you – my god the children will miss you – you are family.'

Erik nodded, and absently looked at Philipe's hand on his arm. When had he started to feel comfortable enough to let the Compte place a hand on him he wondered? He walked to the door and stopped as he reached for the handle.

He turned and replied to Philipe, 'Family, that was something I never thought I would have, but I have known I have been part of one for some time. From the moment you placed Cecile in my arms when she was but a few minutes old and introduced her to her Uncle Erik, then I knew, for that I also thank you.'

Both men looked at each other and nodded in acknowledgement as Erik slipped from the room gently closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Check out Glimpses by Lucifer Rosemount – it was item 9 on the list that inspired me – I hope I did it justice.


End file.
